Otavalo, the Naples, Florida of Ecuador

Arriving here was like coming from dark into light. It had been raining when Fredy, our taxi driver carried our luggage into the windowless room in Latacunga the night before last. The Quilatoa crater lake had been magical that day. By contrast the streets in this new city were wet, narrow, dark and dreary -- the buildings missing whatever paint they might have had years earlier. It was a city completely without grace and we couldn't wait to check out yesterday morning. 

All the main street lamp standards are beautiful.

This city, though, is shockingly gorgeous by Ecuadorian standards. The streets are wide and bright, the buildings freshly painted, the stores stocked with merchandise and the streets safe (so far).

Market wares.

Otavalo is an indigenous city surrounded by the peaks of four volcanoes and famous for its enormous Saturday market. I asked, Antonio, the chef of the next door restaurant (delicately because he himself is indigenous) how the native people here had become so wealthy when many we've seen so far barely have clothes to cover their backs.

"Many years ago some of us travelled to Europe to market our wares. We saw how others lived and returned here with big ideas for change," he said. I remembered reading that Otavalo had been an Andean crossroads since pre-Inca times, when jungle traders would come here on foot. 

So I suppose that somehow, hundreds of years ago people began to develop a business savvy. Now Otavaleños receive international recognition for their weaving and craftsmanship. They own hotels and restaurants. Many drive Ford Rangers. Even so, for years they were exploited, first by colonialists and then by Ecuadorian landowners.

It was only in 1964 with the Agrarian Reform that native peoples could own land. Still there are many in the country who have a meagre existence because their handicrafts have to pass through middlemen to get to market.

The owners of this store parked their truck right in the store.

The woman who sold me an iPad cover today.

The owner of these goats had been walking around town with a cup selling fresh, really fresh goat's milk. He had just tied them up.

A woman with a big load.

No snowmen made from bicycle tires here.

Indigenous women wear smart black dresses and no hats.

Lots of street dogs here.

Odd cactus.

Complicated wiring.

Tomorrow we're taking a train on a mountainous track from Ibarra, at the foot of the Imbabura Volcano, to Salinas where salt is mined.

Chao.

Stolen!

As I said to Bob on the bus today, the hard part about Ecuador is getting around. After two long bus trips and two taxi rides, (one was an hour), we are here in Otavalo, about 100 kilometres from the Columbian border. 

We've felt safe here. We've also guarded our property. I remember the owner of our first B&B warning us, "Don't fall asleep on the buses." But I got complacent, I suppose. If my documentation isn't in a hotel safe, it's on my body.

On the last leg of our trip here today, the person behind me on the bus pulled the strap of my camera bag toward him -- (It was on the floor by my left foot.) -- in order to remove the camera. So when I reached down for my camera, the camera bag was empty. Big shock. As I've said to many people on this trip,"My camera is my right hand."

I'm chastened and sad. But it is only a material possession and not a mortal injury. It's a lesson and from now on I'll try to be more aware. 

Taken with my iPad from our hotel window. 

More tomorrow -- most people are good. In Latagunga a cafe owner who had lived in New Orleans for 20 years said to us, "Ecuadorians are half honest." I said, "Well so far we've found everyone honest and friendly."

The Gods Were With Us

Hi from the crater. It was still pouring when we arrived here at Quilotoa. Locals have taken enormous leaps to benefit from the crater's popularity with viewing platforms and a new path around the crater. 

We would have been so absolutely miserable sitting in the back of a truck like drowned rats in the downpour, after being dropped off at a little village in the middle of nowhere. Those days for me are long gone, if they ever existed.

There was a spot of blue sky when we got out of the taxi and then lo and behold the sky opened up for an hour.

The path down to the crater.

The area is indiginous.

The old path around the crater,

and the new one. We didn't mind the improvements at all.

Yellow sulfur at the yedge of the crater.

A new restaurant.

The same crater one hour later.

Two shepherdesses crossing in front of our car with their flock.

The taxi had cameras and a black box. Our driver, Fredy, has a government car tracking system which is connected to police stations. There are also alarm buttons in the car for the driver and passengers. "So, if the driver is drunk or the car is being rammed or broken into, help is available," Fredy said.

A small home along the way.

In the morning, we're heading north to Otavalo -- about five hours by bus. The indiginous in Otavalo are excellent cratspeople and asute in business. They are in the best economic shape of all indiginous peoples in Ecuador. 

Incredible highways have been built here during the last three years and everywhere we go we meet a guy or a family just returned from years away working in the U.S. or Spain. 

Chao.

Quilotoa Loop

All of a sudden we're off to the rim of a crater tomorrow morning. Being here is almost like storm chasing -- chasing around to find a volcano behind the clouds. Finally, today we saw Tungurahua at La Casa del Arbol or tree house.

Looks innocent enough doesn't it?

Corn in one pot and some kind of funny looking meat in another for all the visitors trying to look at the volcano. The locals who have to run from its explosions must think we're all nuts.

Next to the tree house is a 24/7 seismic monitoring station to evaluate and report the volcano's internal gases and sounds. The station is connected to a webcam and reports to emergency services down below.

We decided to walk 6 kilometers down the mountain to a resort that turned out to have better promotion than services. On the way down we decided to leave Banos tomorrow morning by bus to a town about 100 kilometers from the Quilatoa Laguna.

An impressive fruit or vegetable.

We were going to go by bus and I was dreading all the hassle. We've read that logistics to the crater are a "nightmare."  But the taxi driver who brought us back down from the resort today suggested that he drive us to somewhere not too far from the crater, wait while we go down into it and then take us back to a hotel 100 km. away (for a price). I blessed my lucky stars and also Bob who agreed.

We'll be hiking around the lower loop of the crater's rim.

Internet photo of the laguna.

We're thinking of you Christmas shopping, listening to carols and having fun preparing for the big day. Hugs to all.

Christmas in Banos

It wasn't long ago that you'd see nativity scenes in most Ecuadorian towns at Christmas. But television and tourism have morphed the Christ child into Santa Claus with an inventive flavour. I love this snowman in the central plaza. The belly, head and lower part of the hat are made with car and buggy tires. The upper part of his hat is an inverted pail.

A Christmas Tree

A brewing storm.

There is a one week fiesta happening her in Banos. This woman is pushing sugar cane though a juicer. Lots of kids are lining up for the stuff. They suck the hard bits that are left. Might not be so great for their teeth. Ecuador has good dental care though :)

This is a typical Banos business. Some places are more spiffy.  This trip has shaken me out of my comfort zone. Our lifestyles are so gobsmackingly easy. We have every comfort in the world and, I have to admit, I take everything at home for granted -- until we have a power outage.

This scene reminded me so much of Kathmandu and the festival of Dashain. Here the priest is getting ready to bless a car. I tried to be discreet -- but it looks as though he caught me in the act. People here do not enjoy tourists taking their pictures.

The girl on the left is about 11 all dressed up in heels.

Gold for the festival.

Well marked evacuation routes. The areas one the right are endangered. Refuge centres are in green.

Our room here in Banos

is connected to a spa offering every imaginable treatment and I've checked out many.

Enma, my instructor here in Banos said the other day that everyone in the world wants the best for the children. They want the things they see on television. "But our kids here in Ecuador need a better technological education. We need to start manufacturing our own products."

I've heard so many times now that the average take home pay is $350, I believe it. My instructor, Enma, is an accountant with a four year university degree. But her wage doesn't cover her daughter's university education. Many people have more than one job here.

We leave Banos the day after tomorrow by bus for Latacunga. It's a jumping off point for a three day loop around Laguna Quilotoa, a beautiful volcanic crater lake with an elevation of 3,500m. If the weather cooperates, I'll post photos of the tourquoise lake, mountain ranges and the active volcano, Cotopaxi. If we feel feisty, we'll go on a five hour hike around the rim of the crater.

We're going up 400 metres to a tree house at the top of the mountain now.

Hasta pronto. Seems funny to not hear Christmas carols.